


The Door of Mushy Reeds Past

by Auzzie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School Band, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid John Watson, Kid Sherlock Holmes, Kidlock, Mrs. Hudson is the band teacher, as in they are children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auzzie/pseuds/Auzzie
Summary: John frets over his first broken reed.





	The Door of Mushy Reeds Past

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was written back in 2012 or 2013 in a fit of nostalgia for my middle school band years. I intended to write a short series of fics set in this universe, but it just never happened. I hope you can take some enjoyment from this nonetheless.

John stood in the doorway as Mrs. Hudson slid open her drawer, rummaging around for a tape dispenser.

"And don't forget to write your name on it." She straightened up, handing over the tape and a permanent marker. "It's your first broken reed, isn't it?" She looked delighted, but John couldn't understand why. He chipped a reed. He only had two.

"Oh, what's the matter, John?" Mrs. Hudson placed a gentle hand on his back as she peered into his face. He met the look, his brows furrowed with worry. "You're not upset about that old reed, are you? You've got another one, don't you?"

“I do.” He looked down at the plastic case in his palm. Inside was his very first broken reed. "I just wish it lasted longer." It seemed wasteful, and all because he jammed the tip into his tooth while laughing at one of Mike's jokes.

She smiled down at him. "Don't you worry about it, dear. You don't want to hold on to a reed too long at this stage, anyway; they start to go soggy." She guided him out of her office and faced them toward the door to the nearest practice room.

"How about you stick your reed up there, and I'll go find an order slip for you. We'll get you another reed before the week is out."

He flashed her a thankful smile as she headed off, and turned back to the door. Reeds of different sizes with individual chips and cracks and breaks and, John wrinkled his nose, colors, were stuck up on the door, the previous owners unconcerned with organized placement. Looking up and down the door, he searched out a place to leave his piece, choosing a small space between a ragged saxophone reed and one that must have belonged to an oboe player in school years past, considering there were no oboes in any of the bands this year.

John clutched the plastic reed case between his teeth as he tore off a good sized strip of tape. Plucking the reed from the case, he held it to the door and laid the tape over the stock. Tilting his head to match the angle, his nose scrunched up again; he still didn't like losing a good reed to some lousy tooth chippings.

Before he could finish up, a thin hand slipped the permanent marker from his pocket and scrawled _J. Watson_ across the tape.

"Sh'rlock," John protested around the plastic in his mouth.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and dropped the marker onto the turn-in shelf. "Your handwriting is horrible. At least I made it legible.”

John pulled the case from his mouth. He couldn't find it in himself to be irritated; instead he grinned at the other boy. "You just wanted to have something to do with it."

A huff. "Of course not, John. Why would that matter to me?" Passing over John's clarinet—a clarinet that had _not_ been assembled last John saw it—Sherlock strode back to his seat at the end of the violin section. The bell rang out and John followed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you were in a band class, did your teacher have a door or wall like this? Ours was such a gross mess. Pretty sure there was also an entire french horn up there that someone flattened somehow.
> 
> I wonder if my reed is still there.


End file.
